


Capture Thy Innocence

by LithiumLullaby



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiumLullaby/pseuds/LithiumLullaby
Summary: Anthony. J. Crowley sauntered up to his (not) best friend’s bookshop in the torrential rain with what appeared to be a halfhearted attempt at an umbrella, decidedly broken and inverted. In his other hand, he carried a very large, very expensive bottle of old scotch he had discovered earlier and wanted a decent drinking partner to share with. Never you mind the fact it was only 3 in the afternoon.Crowley discovers Aziraphale reading pornography, Gabriel would be so proud.





	Capture Thy Innocence

  
The murky drizzle of rain had continued for most of the morning, a typical British Monday in June. The weather was so miserable that there had been no customers in the bookshop all day. And so, Aziraphale had taken to doing a stock inventory.

  
Adam had restored his beloved bookshop to a better state than before, with many new tomes that he didn't recognise. From floor to ceiling, the rooms were filled with bookcases, each one containing a vast quantity of old novels and writings from by-gone ages. His most treasured pieces were hidden from the public, but the rest of the shop was occupied by towers of books, all threatening to topple. The smell of the aged paper and ink were a great source of comfort to Aziraphale. Despite Heaven being his true home, it never matched the satisfaction he got from the bookshop.  
So distracted by the discovery of more first edition books by an author of the name of Stevenson, wrapped in cracking leather and beautifully gilded lettering, he didn't hear the bell of the shop door. It took a further 5 minutes for him to realise that whoever had walked into the shop was calling for assistance.

  
"Hello? Oi?! Hello! Is anyone working here!?" A stout delivery man called from the main entrance. He was carrying a large box and looking very wet and disgruntled.

  
Startled, Aziraphale almost dropped the beloved book he had been flicking through. Carefully placing it down, he straightened his white jacket and hurried out to meet the stranger the voice belonged too.

  
"Hello, how can I help you?" Aziraphale gave a terse, polite smile, observing the parcel the man was carrying.

  
"I have a delivery here that needs signing for." The man grumbled, shoving the clipboard towards the Angel.

  
"Oh, yes, well, let me take that." Aziraphale scribbled a beautiful calligraphy version of his name on the board and took the box. He bid the man thank you and farewell as he began to open the box, but froze as soon as he read the address properly. It wasn't this address.

  
"My good fellow, wait! There is a mistake, these are not for this establishment!" Aziraphale called out, almost dropping the half-opened parcel and its contents on the floor as he chased after the delivery man.

  
"It's not my problem anymore, you already signed for it!" the delivery man shouted back unhelpfully as he got into his van and drove off, leaving the befuddled angel standing in the rain with a mysterious package.

  
Glancing up to the heavens and the grey skies, Aziraphale returned inside his quiet store with a sigh. Sometimes, he still didn't understand humans and their ever-changing mood swings and lack of manners.

  
Once back in the safety and warmth of the bookshop, Aziraphale noticed the rain had turned from quaint summer drizzle to an autumn downpour in mere seconds, a usual English Monday afternoon. He decided to close up shop for the rest of the day - nevermind that it was only 11 in the morning - and set about making himself a cup of delicious hot cocoa in his favourite mug.

  
With warm cocoa in hand in the back room Aziraphale set about the task of opening the mislaid package. If it was now his responsibility he could at least see what he was looking after. Once the flaps were pulled back and what seemed like an endless amount of paper wrapping was removed, Aziraphale discovered more books. They were not illustrious, rare first editions, he noted with a disappointed frown, but a random assortment of modern books, judging by their covers.The Angel glanced at the address listed on the box once again, and realised it was for the bookshop next door.

  
"Right! I must return these to next door, and they can deal with them." Aziraphale resolved to himself and began to neatly repackage the box. As he hurriedly made for the front door, a single book dropped to the floor. Shaking his head, Aziraphale chided himself for his clumsy haste, placing the box down and reaching for the book that had landed open face down. He picked it up delicately. It might not have been a first edition, but at the end of the day, all books needed to be treated with respect. Upon turning it over, he couldn't help but read the first line on the page, as was just an uncontrollable habit of a book lover. The words turned his cheeks a heated pink so fast, he had to re-read them just to make sure he had read it correctly and not been possessed by some demonic ilk.

  
Once he confirmed the first few paragraphs were truly as explicit as he first thought, he quickly snapped the book shut, adjusting his collar and bow tie in an attempt to calm his body down. As much as he willed it, he still couldn't cool the flush spreading across his cheeks from the accidental reading of such unapologetic human pornography.

  
"Tea. Tea will help!" Aziraphale squeaked and placed the wicked book back on top of the box. He set himself the methodical task of making a pot of tea, something he had done countless times over the centuries - but the book had left him so flustered that he ended up spilling milk needlessly over his counter. Whilst stirring his tea, his gaze kept wandering towards the book. Taking his first sip, his curiosity got the better of him. He wondered just how the plot of such a book ended up in such a manner and whether this was a normal human custom nowadays. The book’s design wasn't exactly subtle, neither was its delivery to the store. Further scrutiny of the parcel revealed more titles by the same author. Was smut no longer kept secret?

  
Almost guiltily, Aziraphale looked around his living room and decided that this was worth some dedicated research. It wouldn't hurt to return the box to its owner later. He tucked what he assumed was the first book in the series under his arm and transported the tea pot and cup to the coffee table so he could read in his more comfortable chairs in peace. Gulping, the white-haired angel settled himself in the mind frame that this was purely for research, and not technically a sin.

 

***

  
Anthony. J. Crowley sauntered up to his (not) best friend’s bookshop in the torrential rain with what appeared to be a halfhearted attempt at an umbrella, decidedly broken and inverted. In his other hand, he carried a very large, very expensive bottle of old scotch he had discovered earlier and wanted a decent drinking partner to share with. Never you mind the fact it was only 3 in the afternoon.

  
He reached the doors of A.Z. Fell and Co to find the blinds shut and the "Now Closed" sign displayed. This wasn't unusual for the Angel, as he liked to keep odd hours. Crowley always suspected that the white-haired man didn't actually like working in bookshop, just the idea of being surrounded by books. He could see the light on upstairs, so the Demon at least knew he was home. It took just a second for a small demonic miracle to open the front door and for Crowley to step inside. Shaking his broken umbrella all over the floor and narrowly missing some books, Crowley discarded it against the wall before re-locking the door. It was only then that the snake demon noticed how unusually quiet the shop was. If Aziraphale was home, it was a given he'd be playing some classical twaddle Crowley had no taste for on his prized Gramophone.

  
Crowley meandered his way up the old rickety staircase to the back room that had become their main drinking haunt. They had spent many nights (and sometimes days) in the familiar armchairs discussing philosophies, politics and the old days over a variety of different alcoholic beverages over the centuries. Crowley was about to loudly announce his presence and claim his favourite chair when the sight made him pause in the doorway. Normally, he would be put out by the fact Aziraphale had clearly not noticed he was here already and wasn’t offering tea, if it wasn't for the delightful vision he currently provided. His storm grey eyes were glued to the pages of another blasted book, but his normally pale skin was aglow with a hot flush. The tender pink blush, spreading subtly from his cheeks to the Angel’s ear and beyond that ugly bow tie Crowley hated, sent his own cold heartbeat racing like his Bentley.

  
The demon could tell Aziraphale was completely lost in the novel, one he recognised as the latest unadulterated smut trend among humans. He saw the Angel’s delicate cherub lips part slowly for his tongue to wet them, letting his perfect shining teeth bite them. That alone almost sent Crowley to his knees with a groan. Aziraphale, who was well mannered and prim, was currently so engrossed in human erotic fiction that he was oblivious to his surroundings. Crowley, with all his evil genius, quickly concocted a plan of most heinous debauchery even Satan would be proud of (but will never know of it).

  
"Well well, Angel. I never took you for a fan of 50 Shades of Grey. Riveting read; I hear." Crowley couldn't contain his devilish smirk as Aziraphale shrieked in surprise and threw the book behind his chair. Gasping from fright and holding his chest, his blush only increased tenfold as he finally took notice of the demon.

  
Crowley waltzed his way into the room, placing himself comfortably in one of the paisley winged chairs across from Aziraphale. His evocative smirk never left his handsome face whilst his yellow eyes surveyed Aziraphale’s attempt to become composed once more.

  
"Now Crowley, it's not what you think..." Aziraphale began.

  
"Surely this is not your first time reading smut? Not even Lady Chatterley's lover? A bit too melancholy for me, but it certainly would suit your tastes." Crowley spoke causally as he placed the scotch on the table and conjured two crystal scotch glasses for them.

  
"My taste?! I'll have you know; I have had no such interest in risqué fiction! I was merely curious, and it was for research!" Aziraphale spluttered, the blooming blush on his round cheeks seemingly a permanent feature now.

  
Chuckling at the Angel’s embarrassment, Crowley poured himself a glass, then another for Aziraphale. The Demon handed it to the flustered Angel, the brief contact of fingers sending an electric current of heat across his already heightened senses.

  
Aziraphale couldn't quite accept how engrossed in the book he's become, it was fascinating how one could describe carnal pleasures in so much detail.. He refused to acknowledge that it had excited him to the point his mind began to wander to decidedly un-angelic thoughts including a certain Demon.

  
"Yes, well, enough about obscene human literature." Crowley continued.

  
Aziraphale was aware of the dance, so to speak, that they had been doing all these years. The Arrangement has certainly started as friendship, but over the past 2-3 centuries, give or take, it was filled with a variety of 'almost' moments to push it over the precipice of camaraderie to something more. His attention wandered as Crowley rambled about the deeds he had done that day, mostly complaining about how he couldn't convince his head office about how great the small hindrances he created were. While Crowley continued to drink, he hardly touched his own glass. Watching the snake Demon chat animatedly, he tried not to think about how he never really paid close attention to just how low Crowley's open shirt really went.

  
The Angel took a long sip of his scotch and adjusted his bow tie as subtly as he could manage, not wanting to appear like he was not listening to a word Crowley was saying. He simply couldn't stop remembering the sensual descriptions and his mind wouldn't stop applying them to the Demon in his living room. Aziraphale suppressed a distressed groan at the unvirtuous thought that crossed his mind when Crowley tipped his head back and chugged what was left of the amber liquid in his glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. He gripped the arm of his favourite chair tightly to distract himself from the lovely sight of Crowley's exposed neck. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss the Demons neck, an recurring action in the novel with wonderful responses.

  
"Oh for Satan's sake Angel! If it's bothering you that much, you should have said something. You haven't listened to a word I've said!" Crowley suddenly shouted as he pushed himself out of his chair, startling Aziraphale out of his daydream. At first, he thought the Demon would leave - but he was heading straight for him with such heated purpose. It all happened too fast for him to keep up, Crowley roughly grabbing his beloved white coat as he leaned in, bringing them as close as they had been in the old abbey. However, this time, the distinct clash of Crowley's serpentine lips against his own was not an unwelcome shock.

  
Aziraphale let his eyes flutter shut, too stunned to do much else. His hands flexed in the air, unsure whether to hold on back. He could feel Crowley's tongue swipe against his lips, seeking entrance with confidence Aziraphale could do nothing but surrender to with a small whine. The pair stayed like this for a few moments, Crowley ravaging the Angel's mouth with experience that it was downright wicked. It didn't take long to leave Aziraphale in a disheveled, panting state when he finally pulled back enough to let the other breathe. Crowley smirked. Aziraphale opened his grey eyes slowly, his shining pink lips still slightly parted like he hadn't registered Crowley moving. As pure white lashes fluttered open, he saw the Demon lick his lips suggestively. Gingerly, Aziraphale brought his hand up to touch his own, feeling how warm they still felt.

"That wasn't fair." The Angel whispered.

  
"Did you forget Demons don't play fair, Angel?" Crowley cocked his head in a teasing manner, still so close to Aziraphale's face the Angel could feel his breath ghost over his lips. Crowley noticed the torment on his Angel’s face - he clearly wanted another kiss, but was still restraining himself.  
"I am surprised that little book affected you so much." Crowley smirked, placing small chaste kisses on Aziraphale’s lips and moving his hands to caress the other’s neck. Aziraphale shuddered and brought his hand to tentatively to grip Crowley’s shirt sleeve. 6000 years of being best friends, 6000 years of pining, 6000 years of wanting so much more and almost having it. This felt like succumbing to the ultimate temptation. But then, isn't that what Crowley did best?

  
"Well, dear boy, I think it just made me realise how much you affect me." Aziraphale sighed against the demon’s lips and placed a timid kiss there.  
Crowley, for all his cleverness, was stunned for a moment by the confession. He'd planned to tease Aziraphale mercilessly for reading human erotica by being his most sensual self to make him hot and bothered. To think his Angel actually did desire him - in the same way he'd only admit to himself deep in the depths of his black heart that he wanted Aziraphale. His perfect celestial friend - sent an electric current of desire through Crowley that had him fizzing with excitement. He took Aziraphale’s small kiss and pressed it further into a deep sensual display.

  
He took to stripping the Angel’s coat and dropping it to the floor, despite the other’s indignant protest. Crowley just grinned and backed them both towards the couch until he could sit down and pull Aziraphale into his lap. Instead of returning to kissing those heavenly lips, Crowley attacked the pure alabaster skin of Aziraphale’s neck with lips and teeth, causing the other to moan in shocked pleasure.

  
"Oh, Crowley. That feels so delightfully nice…" Aziraphale shivered and reached for Crowley’s shirt to remove it. In turn, Crowley quickly tugged off the offending bow tie he hated so much and stripped Aziraphale’s waistcoat and shirt in the same careless manner as the coat, much to the Angel's disgruntlement.

  
Aziraphale felt his face blush deeply, the heat spreading across his chest as Crowley removed his sunglasses and surveyed the half-naked Angel fidgeting in his lap. He tried to think about how the humans liked to pose sensuously in the book, but couldn't bring himself to do it without feeling awkward. Crowley only smiled and placed hot, gentle kisses along Aziraphale’s chest as he stroked his hips. Aziraphale choked back a gasp as Crowley licked his nipple. He could feel the Demon’s hands caress round to his plump navel. Suddenly remembering Gabriel’s comment about being soft, a wave of self-consciousness had Aziraphale reaching to move Crowley's hands elsewhere, but the Demon wouldn't budge.

  
"My perfect Angel." he growled against his skin, lavishing attention on the other nipple before returning to quickly to claim the other’s lips in a firm kiss.

  
The afternoon storm howled, and as the sky started to blacken, the backroom of the already-dim bookshop was cast further into darkness. Lashes of rain hitting the windowpanes accompanied the symphony of small moans and whimpers from Aziraphale. Crowley snapped his fingers smoothly behind the Angel’s white locks and turned on the various antique lamps in the room to see the pleasured expression on Aziraphale’s face.  
He let his other hand continue roaming from his belly to the front of his trousers where he could feel the Angel’s growing interest. When he took a firm hold, he smirked at Aziraphale’s blissful moan and swallowed it greedily in another hungry kiss.

  
Aziraphale gripped on to Crowley’s auburn hair tightly as he returned the kiss with fevour. He couldn't help but cant his hips into Crowley's touch, flushing at the thought of how he must look on top of the Demon.

  
"My Dearest, it...it feels so much better...than...the book describes, why did we wait so long?" Aziraphale whimpered in between Crowley biting his lips and stroking his cock through his beige slacks.

  
"It will feel significantly better in minute, Angel." Crowley's lips spread into a snake-like grin as he pecked Aziraphale’s cheek and snapped his finger again. Aziraphale was left entirely naked as the day he was created on top of Crowely, his erection weeping precome onto the Demon’s immaculate black skintight trousers.

  
"Crowley! A little warning wouldn't go unnoticed!" Aziraphale cried out in embarrassment, trying to cover himself, only to have his hands swatted away by the Demon.

  
"Nonsense! I wanted to see all of you." He whispered suggestively against Aziraphale’s ear, caressing his erection to full hardness. It earned him another surprised moan that Crowley was becoming addicted to hearing. Aziraphale's sounds of bliss resonated like Angel song, only a thousand times better.

  
"Oh my, you were right my dear, that does feel...pleasant." Aziraphale whispered breathlessly as Crowley continued to pleasure him, arching towards his sinfully talented hand. If you had asked the Angel if he had planned to be naked with a Demon on his couch this afternoon, he would have thought you mad.

  
With his other hand Crowley attempted to undo his trousers one handed, which didn't go particularly well with how pent up like a live wire he felt. Aziraphale had just enough sense left to also snap his fingers and vanish Crowley's skin-tight trousers (except he actually had them folded and placed neatly on the floor). The sudden rush of cool air forced a hiss from Crowley, his erection exposed and proudly showing how much the Angel affected him.

  
In their current position Aziraphale's member sat next to Crowelys they were almost touching, it gave the demon an wicked idea. He stroked Aziraphale firmly once more, thumbing the head make the Angel cry out with a sharp keen, thrusting his hips toward the friction. Crowley circled his hand around both of their exposed cocks and used Aziraphale's precome to lubricate them both. His increasing speed allowed him to chase the start of a coiling feeling in his gut.

  
The haze of pleasure began to fog Crowley's mind, while he used his unoccupied hand to brush Aziraphale's flushed cheek and stroke his curly hair. Fluorescent yellow eyes regarded Aziraphale's glazed over expression while he kept up the steady pace of strokes. They barely exchanged words, only a cacophony of gasps and moans filtered through the old bookshop against the backdrop of rain.

  
Aziraphale struggled to keep up with Crowley, he didn't know where to move or hold. He desperately tried to remember anything from the erotic book but his world became centered on their shared pleasure. Crowley captured his kiss swollen lips for another embrace, plundered his heat with that savvy tongue of his. The long dextrous fingers caressing through his hair were a stark contrast against the furious movements of the other. Aziraphale felt a surge of emotion overtake him he knew wasn't hormones. He copied Crowleys gesture by carding both beautiful hands through auburn locks, closing his eyes and returning the kiss with ethusiam. Upon swallowing Crowleys pleased moan, Aziraphale felt the confidence to thrust his groin into the Demon's hand. This made the Demon break the kiss to purr into the passionate Angels ear.

  
Crowley pulled back to rest his forehead against Aziraphale's and look at his Angels titilated expression. He watched as Aziraphales grey eyes fluttered half open and felt the breath he didn't really need ripped from him. Aziraphale had always talked about how Angels were beings of love several times to Crowleys lack of understanding. However he couldn't miss the expression he regarded Crowley with. It was more than sexual passion, more powerful than endorphins. It was a smoldering expression of love that had been built and denied over 6000 years and it was finally being allowed to shine. Its intensity sent shivers through his very core essence.

  
"Oh...Angel" Crowley groaned and increased his pace, employing every technique he could to bring the Angel the same soul shattered pleasure he brought him.

  
The white hot feeling spreading to Aziraphale's groin was extraordinary. Of all the pleasures and indulgences (not of the sinful type) he had experienced of humanity, nothing had felt quite like it. It was a tightening hot coil of nerves that coursed through his veins like lightning. He chased the sensation greedily. Crowley's nimble fingers caressed them both in such a frenzy he couldn't keep up with him, his focus was all but gone. Mouth hanging open to pant, his angelic voice reached a higher pitch as he felt his body reach bursting point. The overwhelming blinding sensation was euphoric and terrifying at the same time.

  
"Aah...aaaah... Crowley... I..I cannot..." Aziraphale whined as the pleasure built like a swirling storm, until he couldn't hold on anymore. Crowley growled and bit at his exposed neck, sucking a deep purple bruise onto the skin. The feeling of Crowley's teeth ripped Aziraphale's orgasm from him in a searing moment. He lost control over his body just long enough for his magnificent pure white wings to surge out. A surprised moan left Aziraphales lips from feeling his ethereal limbs release, everything was overwhelming to a point he felt himself crying. The evidence of his orgasm spread across Crowley's navel in strips.

  
"Love, I..I'm sorry" Aziraphale hiccuped an embarressed apology against Crowley as he tries to clumsily pull his wings in. Crowley doesn't register the Angels apology. He can only feel the friction of his hand slide more smoothly from Aziraphales come and the extra preasure from the Angel's relaxed weight. The over sensitive brush of heavenly feathers against his skin is the final straw. It's more than he can physically handle, following his own heated orgasm he released a deep guttural moan into Aziraphale's shoulder.

  
Neither spoke as they came down from their respective highs, shuddering against each other basking in the afterglow and listening to the never-ending rain.

  
"Dear one..." Aziraphale spoke softly.

  
"Hmmm?" Crowley replied lazily, opening his eyes to study the other.

  
"Let's not wait so long next time" Aziraphale panted, resting forehead against the Demons again.

  
"Insatiable Angel" Crowley teases and kisses him tenderly while wiping his tears.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been so delighted by the new content and very pleased with the series that I just had to write my own fic. For my dear friend who sends me fanart and memes everyday of these two idiots.


End file.
